


Ready Player One(Name to be changed? Maybe?)

by lots_of_static



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Apocalypse, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multiship, SQUIP - Freeform, This is a whole ass story aha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lots_of_static/pseuds/lots_of_static
Summary: Jeremy tried to get rid of the unactivated SQUIPS- He really did. But nothing worked. So he did the only thing he could.And that triggered a mini apocalypse, contained inside of the school building.Now Michael has to become Player One once more to save his best friend from turning into a monster.
Relationships: Brooke Lohst/Chloe Valentine, Christine Canigula/Jeremy Heere, Jake Dillinger/Rich Goranski, Jeremy Heere & Chloe Valentine, Jeremy Heere/Brooke Lohst, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Be more chill





	1. Null

Jeremy was  _ fucked _ .

Only weeks before, he’d been doing what he did for three years; spending as much time as possible with his Player One; Michael Mell, avoiding school bully Rich Goranski, and adoring Christine Canigula with all of his heart.

Now he was digging through Rich’s locker for capsuled supercomputers, each costing 600 dollars. Or… 400, in his case.

**Jeremy, don’t do this. Take the SQUIPs, and put it in the beaker. Give it to Jenna, she’s already been squipped and is ready to go.**

_ Bullshit. I am not giving her any of these. My life is ruined, you can’t ruin anyone else’s life. _ __   
  


First, he found the box. A shoebox with a pair of pint sketchers crocs, women’s size eight. Inside were maybe 20 pills一 20 SQUIPS for 20 cast members.

Haha, what a  _ dumb _ play. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, except set in 2040, and with zombies. Christine was really upset. Mister Reyes laughed and told her verbatim, the man is dead. Get over it. So that’s what she did.

Oh, how Jeremy wished he could just, go to the play. Play his role; Lysander, one of the only human survivors. But now it wasn’t possible. God,  _ god _ , he wanted to finish the play, then maybe give another go at asking Christine out. Beg for Michael’s forgiveness. Visit Rich in the hospital, maybe ask about the full-body cast.

But that wasn’t the case.

_ I’ll toss it in a lake! _

**Not effective. It’ll stay there for the eternity of time, or at least until it’s discovered again. If the capsule is tampered with, It’ll show instructions of what this is一 essentially what you thought it was at the time of you taking it, and they’ll take it, and the cycle will begin again.**

_ Well… what about burning it? _

**The pills are fireproof.**

_ What if … what if  _ I _ took them? _

**Unadvised. SQUIPs are made for** **_one_ ** **person. Multiple for one individual and it’s untested for multiple onto one.**

_ I’ll have to take that chance. _

Jeremy started to take handfuls of pills, forcing it down his throat and swallowing them dry. It’s like swallowing hard chunks of sand that had been heated up. Not enough to be glass, but enough to be hot to the touch. Once he downed all of them, he sputtered, coughing. He wanted to puke. He looked at the beaker of Mtn. Dew. No way in hell was he going to drink that. That’d be damnation. Water. What he needed was water. But … his hand was moving towards the beaker. Foreign to himself, he wasn’t in control anymore. He watched as his- not his. He watched as the hand picked up the beaker, raising it to his lips. Tipping the lemon-lime, slightly soured, bright green liquid into his mouth. It wasn’t him who made him swallow, and he couldn’t move to his own accord until the Mtn. Dew was in his system.

And then there was the pain.

Scorching, screaming, pain, he was shouting like a child, one who just got their first shot. He curled up, screeching. There was a jumble of voices in his head, but he knew what each of them said. He’d heard the same lines before.

**Calibration in process. Please excuse some mild discomfort.**

**Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated. Discomfort level may increase.**

His screams grew louder, as did the pain in his head.

**Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete.**

Jeremy felt all will escape his body, sinking into the abyss as a council of 20 plus one king takes over his body.

**Jeremy Heere, welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor.**

He was not here anymore, so he stripped the blue cardigan一 the red white and blue striped shirt was horrid alone, but it was somehow worse with the cardigan. He brushed the dust off of his top, before walking. Hands out of his pockets, back arched and his chest puffed out.

**Your SQUIP.**


	2. The Things We Used To Share

The locks on the door rattled a bit as Michael jammed the lock into the hole, shuffling it around before pulling it out, and moving onto the final window.

God, everything was in _ruins_.

He’d come to save his best friend, and what? He came to see a mob of drugged zombies in the auditorium? Utter hell. But, he was managing. He moved onto another door, shoving the key into the keyhole and turning it, before yanking it out once more. He’d stolen the lock from the inside of the janitor’s closet, poor placement of something so important on that middle-aged guy’s part. He moved onto the next window.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. First Michael and him discussing the pill over their usual bout; a game of Apocalypse of The Damned. They were stuck on a level, and his spirits were down, but Michael lifted him back onto his feet. He’d promised Michael that he’d never leave his side, verbatim, you know that you are my favorite person, and we're never not gonna be a team. He had lied, obviously.

Michael moved onto the next lock, recounting the next chain of events. Michael was ignored out of nowhere, he’d just left him for dead. Michael had observed him some, he started talking more with the highschool superpowers; namely Brooke Lohst, Chloe Valentine, and Rich Goranski. He had changed. When they spoke again, the SQUIP was activated. He seemed cold as ice, and Michael’s heart broke when he spoke the words; Optic Nerveblocking On.

What followed was the worst event of his life, all jokes aside. Michael had to get through to him, Michael _needed_ to warn him. About what the SQUIP was. What it did. He was in danger, and Michael tried to save him, but he wouldn’t listen. He simply brushed Michael aside, a single word stabbing him through the heart. That was the moment he knew he’d lost his best friend.

_Get out of my way,_ Loser _._

Michael had a mental breakdown, his thoughts collapsing on itself, causing an eventual implosion. Michael wasn’t even planning on coming to school when he did, it was _his_ father who convinced him. _When you love somebody, you put your pants on for them_ , he’d said. Michael, with newfound courage and hope for their friendship, attained a messenger bag, and one of those cool chest strappy things一 the one you see in jungle or apocalypse movies一 full of Mtn Dew Red. Michael charged into battle, only to get knocked back to level one.

And here he was now.

He locked the last door. Now no one would be able to escape, no one could spread the SQUIPs across New Jersey. He sighed, might as well start looking for someone, anyone else who wasn’t squipped. As far as he knew, he was the only survivor. He shoved the keys into his bag, moving on.

He slid on his headphones, his phone still had some juice left. Was he going to use it to call for help? Of course not. Who was he supposed to call? The police? Like they’d believe him. So, he did the next best thing; play music. He selected not one of his usual playlists, but one of the ones that _he_ made. The first song showed up.

**Now Playing - The Things We Used To Share by Thomas Sanders**

“Hmm . . . not what I thought he’d be into.” Michael said softly, his feet stepping through the ghostly empty hallway, only illuminated by the streetlights that sat feet outside.

_You can have the toaster and the PC, or even my Timothy Green DVD_

He looked out the window. It almost seemed like an image, he hadn’t even been here for a full 24 hours but it felt like the outside world was this unknown and abstract idea to him. He was out of touch.

_I'll let you have the couch and the TV, hang on to that jacket that you bought for me_

Michael laughed at that line a bit, the chuckle echoing down the hallway. Michael thought about how he’d give _him_ his hoodie sometimes一 the bright red one, with the patches on the arms and chest, the back with the black and white pattern and the polar bear design on the hood.

_I don't really care, you can keep the things we used to share_

What a bittersweet song, Michael thought. His voice was so melodic and sugary, but he also sounded so sad. It made his own heart throb in pain. He continued to walk, to no where in particular, just listening to the music. In a way, it fit _him_. It fit Jeremy well.

_But what did you do with my heart?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Here's the first actual chapter, and it's finally here! I just busted this chapter out there, I'm publishing this at 12:30 in the morning, aha. Anyways, shameless promotion time.
> 
> I have a musical themed roleplay server!
> 
> As of right now it's very small, only me and 2 others are active on there, but I'm always welcoming others! Here is the link!
> 
> https://discord.gg/xwKrdFz
> 
> Feel free to join anytime, y'all are welcome and we'd love to have you here!


End file.
